


Missing Scenes (Teardrop)

by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12



Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Cave, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Galen's first time, Geunine Affection, Krennic knows whats up, M/M, Make up sex, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Outtakes, Pre-Rogue One, Smut, Squeezing, To be honest, Touching, can be read as standalone, fluffy sex, loving, more romance than sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12/pseuds/EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: A series of extra little shots of what goes on in the relationship of Galen and Orson. Set during different times throughout the Teardrop series!1) Cave on Lexrule2) Coruscant Apartment3)  The Hotel4) Program Days5) Speeder





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy :) More of the whole story coming soon as well! Please R and R, your feedback gives me life!

_“Okay.” Said Galen, and pulled him into a kiss_.

This wasn’t new. The feel of Orson’s lips, the burst of taste on his tongue as Orson’s pushed into his mouth. The weight as Orson moved to be on top of him, his legs born down into the soft fabric as nimble fingers began to tug at his tunic. These feelings were not new.

But the need. The heady, almost burning he could feel was a change. It was desire that up to that point, he realized he had held at bay for fear of some subtle change, of his feelings backfiring on him and leaving him alone as he always been. But now, as Orson finally made his way to bare skin, pulling his head back to drink in the sight of Galen’s torso, he could see that the need was mutual.

He could feel that small tug of anxiety, but for once, his bodies desires were overruling it. He let his breathing stay heavier, get deeper and softer as Orson’s hands traced over his muscles. He was reminded of other times, when Orson would say how much he enjoyed the aesthetic of Galen’s body, the ropy muscles along a lean build that had hardened from years of farm work. Now was no exception, thick fingers tracing familiar paths, only now they seemed to move with intent. They were making paths designed to cause a reaction, moving over his nipples on occasion, lingering on his collarbone.

He thought he might have been content letting Orson do that forever, closing his eyes and allowing touch to carry him away from any worry he might have. But his body thought otherwise, beginning to coil with a repressed need now pressing dangerously close to the surface. He moved fingers, not as graceful as Orson’s, but with a certain finesse that came from familiarity with small fixtures, and began to undo the buttons on Orson’s shirt.

If Orson was surprised, he didn’t show anything but an almost smug satisfaction as Galen reached for him, shaking the shirt back off of his shoulder. Orson’s body was different than his own, lithe with muscles, but not in the same presence that Galen had. He had never bothered to consider the aesthetic of a human body before, but Orson’s, bathed in the pale light of this cave, flushed from his fingers and their kiss, was beautiful. He felt his ears redden at the thought, but wondered if Orson felt the same as he sat up and pulled him into a deeper kiss than the first, pushing one hand through curly hair, wrapping the other around to press bare skin to his own.

When it broke, Orson went for his usual move of trailing his lips over Galen’s jaw. But before he could finish his target, Galen stilled his head with his hand, and moved his own lips down to Orson’s neck, waiting until he could find a pulse point to suck gently on the skin there. “Galen…” This time Orson couldn’t contain his surprise, but Galen was egged on both by the fact that he didn’t move away, but rather moved his head to allow Galen more access, and the press of Orson’s arousal against him.

It occurred to him that he knew Orson was sensitive to this because of the various marks he had seen on him when he had stumbled back into the room, intoxicated and exhausted. But he didn’t want to think about that now, pushing jealous thoughts out of his head and instead choosing to focus on the breathy sounds Orson was making as he did.

When he did finally pull back, pressing a final kiss to Orson’s neck and shoulder, his shirt was immediately pushed back off his shoulders. “You’ll have to tell me, Galen,” He could hear Orson’s almost whisper, “tell me if you want to stop, if we go too fast.”

“I am not worried.” Galen said as broad hands began to trace his back muscles with the same interest they had traced his torso. He felt Orson moving off of him, and watched as he was suddenly standing in front of him, extending a hand to help him stand on his feet and join him. Galen couldn’t help the small glance at Orson’s pants and the growing bulge in the front of them.

Orson pulled him into a kiss, not wrapping his arms around Galen as usual, or pressing his hands to his chest, but rather keeping them on his hips. His thumbs moved along the skin that cut sharply into Galne’s waistband and belt, and after breaking their short kiss, he looked down to undo the buckle on Galen’s belt. Galen waited, watching Krennic’s fingers at first, but then his eyes, trying to catch any sign of anything writ across his features. But he wasn’t able to until the leather slid out of the loops with a decisive snap and landed a few feet away with his shoes.

Then, a set of glittering blue eyes were on him, fingers dancing around his waistband. “Is this alright?” Orson’s voice was hoarse, his accent more pronounced. Galen had never realized how endearing it was, how even the harsh sound made his pants a bit tighter, a bit more uncomfortable, a bit more ready for Orson’s fingers to release the buttons there.

“Yes.” He said, realizing now the darker sound of his own voice. He felt the snaps come loose, almost breathing a sigh of relief. His eyes fixed on where his lips had been earlier, the skin pink from the stimulation, and he smiled to himself. He waited, feeling the zipper loosen them more, and Orson’s hands, slightly cool against his skin, push around the waistband until they fell from his hips.

He stepped out of them, unwilling to look down at Orson, who’s eyes were fixed on Galen’s boxer briefs, but instead, reached out a hand, pushing Orson’s curls back off of his ear and placing a kiss there. Not truly knowing what he was doing, going now on instinct, he pulled Orson close with one arm, and ran his tongue around the curve of his ear.

Orson swore, and Galen couldn’t help that small laugh that escaped him, which did strange things to the way their bodies were connected. He felt himself moving his hips unconsciously, pressing them against Orson, who seemed more than happy to return the contact.

But then he stepped back, reaching hands down to undo his own belt, clearly wanting to move them forward. Galen closed his hands over his, waiting until Orson pulled back do he could undo the buckle. “It is only fair,” He gave the quip lightheartedly, trying to mask his own nervousness as they tip-toes closer to an ending he had only ever allowed himself to consider in dreams. Orson waited as it took Galen a bit longer to undo his belt, not for want of trying, but for the simple fact he had only ever taken a belt off of himself before. But eventually, it joined their other discarded items on the floor, and looked up at Galen, grinning at either the situation or the fact that there was only two layers of very thin cloth separating them.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” Orson said, reaching his hands up to cradle Galen’s face, pushing him back towards the bed, “We can stop if you need to.”

“So have I.” Galen said, and Orson smiled. Galen would have returned it, but wasn’t given the opportunity before heavy lips were on his own and the look of extreme vulnerability that Orson had hinged on his response was over. He felt like he was almost drowning in the feel of Orson Krennic, breathing him in deeply as he felt himself being pushed back on the bed, hands pulling at the only clothing that remained covering his body.

The kisses seemed never ending, and he was spiraling into a version of the galaxy he hadn’t known existed as he the first wave of ecstasy hit him as Orson wrapped his hand around him, stroking him once slowly before resting that hand on his stomach. If he had had any reservations about this, that had demolished them, that simple touch that he knew was only a fraction of what they could feel together. Of what Orson could do to him and what he could do for Orson.

He lifted his fingers up, pulling at Orson’s boxers until they too had disappeared. He waited for a moment, not quite sure what to do, letting his fingers small circles into Orson’s thighs, until he moved his hand to wrap it around Orson’s erection, watching his friends eyes close at the feeling of the light motions he was making.

“Kriff, Galen…” He said as Galen kept going, never changing pace, but throbbing with renewed want at every slight twitch of Orson’s body as he tried to keep still.

“Is this okay?” HE asked, slightly worried from Orson’s reaction. But when his blue eyes opened, they were almost black from his pupils dilating. He released him anyway, pulling at his shoulders to pull him into another deep kiss, moaning unexpectedly as Orson’s hand closed around him again.

“You’re beautiful, Galen.” Orson whispered against his mouth. The sentiment, oft repeated in moments previous at times when their bodies were already feverish, had done little to convince Galen of such. But now, with Orson’s lips trailing from his lips to his face to his neck to his chest to his abdomen, he realized how truthful Orson Krennic was being, how truthful he had always been as his hands moved in the same twists and pulls, his thumb passing over Galen’s tip in a way that made him buck his hips up into Orson’s hand, his body desperate for some greater contact.

“Don’t move.” Orson said against his skin, and then the familiar weight was gone, his body aching for him to go after it. But he listened, watching as Orson opened the drawer in a small piece of furniture to pull some things out. Galen realized after a few moments he was staring at Orson’s butt, which he had to admit certainly had its appeal, but the fact that he had caught himself doing it had him blushing anyway. Orson seemed unbothered by this, in fact, as he walked back to the bed, his hips swayed in a subtle way that made his entire body so enticing that Galen was hit with another aching wave or arousal at the sight of it.

“Do you trust me?” Orson asked, climbing back on the bed. Galen nodded. He leaned over him, their skin almost touching, close enough that the heat radiating off of them seemed almost tangible in the air. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” Galen breathed out. He was glad now, that he finally had a word for it. He wanted Orson. His body, his heart, his mind. He wanted him, more than he had ever wanted anything he could remember. Even his research, even his piano that now seemed very unimportant. That must be what love was. This level of almost tangible, concerted need is incredible, even more so as he watches Orson tear a package open and feels him slide a hand down him, covering him. He let out a soft groan, watching Orson for a moment as he took a small bottle from between his fingers and began to prepare himself.

“You were ready?” Galen breathed, almost beyond the point of trusting his voice to communicate clearly. Orson smirked down at him, breaking the tension, his hips thrusting forward slightly against Galen. Galen moved his hands away from Orson’s hip, tracing the hard lines of his body down to his cock, which throbbed at his touch. He was pleased, amazed, and aroused by the noise that practically tore from Orson’s throat, reverberating in the confined space, practically dancing over Galen’s own heated skin.

He moved faster, trailing his fingers along the ridge and the vein, watching Orson’s eyes close tightly as he thrust his hips into Galen’s hand. But that time couldn’t last forever, and Galen’s own impatience was pressing him to want to move to the next step, to be lost forever in heat and lust and care that burned as bright as nay crystal. It seemed Orson was thankfully of the same mind.

“Are you still sure?” And more of the slick liquid came to his palm as wrapped a hand around Galen through the thin wrapper.

“Yes.” He said, trying to prevent his voice from shaking too harshly.

“Good.” Orson said, and leaned down to meet Galen’s lips in a searing kiss that stole the breath that had been left in his lungs and ignited small fires all along his skin as Orson pressed against him, moving himself until Galen could feel Orson’s body beginning to slide around him. He moaned into Orson’s mouth, letting his breath come in pants as he was enveloped in him. He felt Orson press his forehead against his, but he didn’t dare open his eyes, afraid he might open them and this all be a dream of some off sort.

“Are you..” Orson’s voice was heavy, tight with some emotion Galen couldn’t place in his own mind. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He said, finally opening his eyes to see Orson’s face so near his own, the blue eyes he was so fond of looking at him deeply, the intense vulnerability that he so often saw exposed to his sight having left him for a simple moment. “Are you?”

Orson didn’t respond at first, not with words, and Galen moved his hand up to Orson’s face, curving his fingers against his jaw. Then he moved, easing back before pressing back down onto Galen, who gasped at the unexpected sensation. “Yes.” Orson said, moving to whisper against his lips, “You feel incredible.” And he kept his motions going, slow and steady, pulling Galen into kisses that drowned out his moans and made him want to hold onto the feeling of those motions forever. It was incredible, almost his undoing, and he could feel himself being pushed closer and closer to a precipice he hadn’t truly known existed. Some plane of thinking he could only have imagined, and even then, not well enough for it to be like this.

Almost on instinct, his hand that wasn’t pulling Orson close to him, or running through his hair that was starting to dampen with summer heat and his physical motions became wrapped around Orson’s cock pinned between them, stroking him slowly in time with Orson’s own thrusts. Then they were both moaning, and Galen could feel his hips start to move of almost their own accord, though he did manage to keep the motions gentle into Orson’s body.

“Galen,” Orson managed to get out through one of his moans, “kriff.” And Galen knew he wasn’t the only one who was being undone by their coupling. Krennic’s hips started moving faster, Galen’s along with them, thrusting upwards, his hand moving faster with each moan and press of his hips. He closed his eyes again, listening to the sound of their bodies meeting in tandem, at Orson’s voice whispering soft things across his body; feeling the almost overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him at any second.

“Look at me.” And two fingers were on his jaw, turning his head slowly to look into a pair of blue eyes that were alive with fire. As he met Orson’s eyes, a final thrust down met his hips moving up and he felt the pleasure that had been coursing through him finally explode.

He gasped out Orson’s name, emptying himself into the heat that was his body, and let his hips move of their own accord, vaguely aware of Orson’s similar noises as he moved closer and closer to his own climax. Galen was almost blinded, he hadn’t expected this level of ecstasy, he hadn’t known that something could feel this incredible. Moments later, as his hand continued to move, he felt Orson thrust his hips forward, spilling onto Galen’s stomach with a half-strangled shout of his own.

As they rode down their joint highs, Galen held Orson close to him, the sweat from their skin mingling with what he now recognized was the overwhelming scent of sex. When they eventually separated, and cleaned up, it was a hurried affair as if Orson, like Galen, couldn’t bear to be apart for very long. He held Orson close to his chest, their conversation muted and unimportant as it was simply the act of being together that mattered to them at the moment. Orson laid on him carefully, draping his legs around Galen’s naked body as he drifted off to sleep, nearly collapsing from the exhaustion of what had been an emotionally exhausting day. Galen smiled, holding him close, knowing that moments such as these were not meant to last forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime after they get their little apartment :3 Fluffy, fam. Lot of smutty fluff.

Krennic pulled Galen tighter to him, his chest pressed to Galen’s back as his hands wound around his front, clasping together across his abdomen. Galen continued to play, and Krennic closed his eyes as the sounds coming from the piano led Galen to sway back and forth, moving them both in a rhythmic motion that matched perfectly with the time of the music. It seemed to Krennic that their apartment had come alive with the piano, full of rich sounds that he found himself humming or placing as a backdrop against the scenes of his everyday life.

 _Force_ , Galen smelled good. Like the rich mint soap that Krennic had bought them, and the almost cinnamon scented shampoo that Galen had used ever since Krennic had known him. Or at least as long as he had been close enough to him to notice. He tightened his grip a bit, sliding his fingers along Galen’s stomach to begin undoing the buttons of Galen’s front closed tunic.

He made it along the entirety of the bottom part of his shirt, Galen giving no reaction as he slid his hands over his skin, choosing instead to finish his song. Krennic knew he didn’t understand the extent to which Galen was tied to the music he was playing. The way his whole body was almost entranced. He had tried his own hand, having looked at how to play for beginner’s, not that he would ever tell Galen, but was yet to find any traction. He couldn’t feel the melodies the way Galen could, at least not yet.

But for now, as he felt Galen still as the long, last note of the tune rang out, and sigh softly with the end of the music, he pressed his forehead into Glaen’s shoulder. “Turn around.” He said softly, and Galen did, the last few buttons of his shirt coming undone in seconds between Krennic’s fingers. And then, with a ghost of a smile, Krennic pressed his lips to Galen’s, whose long fingers moved to his hair, cupping his skull to tilt his head back into the kiss. He ran his hands down Galen’s bare body, moaning slightly into the kiss as Galen deepened it, feeling the hard lines of his chest and abdomen under his hands.

“You like when I play the piano.” Galen said simply, when he had pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. 

“I like your fingers.” Krennic laughed pushing the tunic off Galen’s shoulders so that it fell to the floor. “And the music is beautiful, too.” He looked up at Galen’s face, where a blush had creeped across it. He was still shy about himself, but Krennic was keen on giving compliments, especially pointed ones, and he liked the red tint that came across Galen’s skin.

“I could show you how to play, Orson.” He liked hearing his name roll off of Galen’s accented tongue, and he planned on hearing it much more in a few minutes. To hear his first name was still odd, always at work, he was Krennic, with colleagues, other scholars, even the Chancellor himself, he Krennic, or Captain Krennic on occasion. He liked that Galen called him Orson, and that only Galen called him that.

“I think I’ll pass.” Krennic said, running his hands up Galen’s chest to either side of his face. “Now, stop talking so much.” Galen laughed, his faint blush growing deeper, but he leaned down either way to kiss him again. Krennic leaned into it, feeling Galen’s thin body pressed against his through his clothes, which were rapidly starting to come off under Galen’s fingers. His pristine white uniform tunic, which his Republic emblem clipped to the front came off in Galen’s hands, where he set it neatly across a nearby chair. Krennic almost felt bad for letting his fall to the floor, but not bad enough to stop.

Instead, he let out a soft graon as Galen kissed him once again, then slid his lips across his clean-shaven jaw to his neck, the rough stubble of Galen’s persistent beard scratching against his skin. His hands, fingers pressed lightly against his skin, moved down Krennic’s back, over his sides, until Galen could undo his belt. Krennic could feel his erection twitch at having Galen’s hands so close, the slight freedom of having his belt undone relieving some of the pressure on it.

Without warning, Galen’s hands were suddenly on the backs of his thighs, lifting him upwards as their mouths crashed together again, his arms wrapping tight to Galen’s neck. It wasn’t an infrequent move done by Galen, who preferred that they keep most sexual encounters to their bedroom, but Krennic still reveled in the strength, of beign pressed tight to Galen, his erection hard on Galen’s stomach, Galen’s hard between his legs.

But this time, he wasn’t set on the bed. When his legs disentangled from Galens’ waist, he was standing on the edge of it, and he looked down, panting slightly as his forehead rested on Galen’s shoulder, as his pants were undone and pressed off of his hips and his boxer briefs soon followed.

“Sit down.” Galen said quietly, not looking at Krennic, his ears starting to redden again. Krennic grinned, not knowing exactly what Galen had in mind, but glad he was finally pushing for what he wanted. He had to coax most things from Galen, sexual or not, even small things that he might enjoy, and it was nice to see him like this.

“Kiss me first.” Krennic said, and was greeted with a resounding kiss, his full body still pressed to Galen’s hald-clothed one, as he was pushed back into sitting on the bed, his legs still on the floor, Galne’s arms on either side of him. Then Galen’s lips moved again, not stopping at his neck, but going to his shoulder, tracing along his clavicle, the skin sucked between his teeth for a sensation that had Krennic gripping Galen’s hair with a louder moan than he intended. Then his chest, where his nipples were hardened, then his ribs. As he made his way down Krennic’s body, Galen sank to his knees on the floor in front of him, using his hands to pull Krennic forward to where he was teetering on the edge of the bed, his fingers massaging his hips then down to his thighs.

“Galen,” Krennic moaned softly, since it seemed Galen was determined to touch him everywhere except the place he most wanted him to.

“Patience, Orson.” Galen said, his voice teasing and heavily aroused. But even though he was telling Krennic to wait, one of his hands slid around him in a heavy grip, making slow strokes in a way designed to drive Krennic mad. “You have never been very patient.” He added, and Krennic looked down at him, where he was smiling up at him.

“It’s hard to be patient in this circumstance, Galen.” He managed to breathe out as Galen passed a thumb around the tip of his erection.

“Tell me what you want, Orson.” Krennic knew that Galen knew damn well what he wanted, but seemed determined to get Krennic to say it out loud.

“Please, Galen.” He said, his breath shortened even more as Galen’s pace increased slightly, almost subtlety if he hadn’t been so sensitive.

“Hmm?” Galen said, and kept moving. Krennic gripped the sheets harder.

“Your mouth, Galen.” Then, it seemed, his patience had paid off as Galen’s mouth slipped around him, his cheeks hollowed and lips tight. Krennic heard himself curse at the sensation, feeling Galen take him deep, as deep as he ever had, back into his throat as his hand stayed wrapped around the base. He hummed softly, the same song he had been playing, and Krennic moaned in deep, and uncontrolled intervals as his tongue and lips began to work over him.

Galen pulled back, sliding him out of his mouth as he drug his tongue along the bottom, sucking lightly. Krennic dripped in his hair again, not tightly, just down at the root, letting Galne continue to guide himself along, having to wait only a few moments before he swallowed him down again.

“Galen…” He was gasping, almost overwhelmed. But Galen didn’t stop or slow or move off, he sucked hard and suddenly, Krennic felt himself spilling into Galen’s mouth with a flash of ecstasy, down Galen’s throat, who seemed happy with the situation at hand.

He loosened his grip on Galen’s hair and felt him pull back, Krennic collapsing backwards onto the bed, still out of breath. He felt Galen moving around, not sure what he was planning, but Krennic reached out a hand, gripping Galen’s wrist. He then moved his hands to Galen’s waistband, “Take these off.” He said, still absorbed.

He sat up on his elbows, his breath finally slowing as he heard, and watched Galen take off his trousers and flood them over his arm. Krennic sucked his bottom lip under his teeth, looking at the tent in Galen’s trousers, obviously aroused. Galen paused, his entire body flushing with his face, but Krennic raised his eyebrows until Galen pushed off his boxers as well.

Then he stood, waltzing over to Galen and pulling him close, trapping his heavy erection between them. Galen smiled down at him, almost shy, which Krennic had to snort at. He reached down, running his hand along Galen’s hips. “Tell me what you want, Galen.”

Galen said nothing, but Krennic could hear his breath quicken. He dropped his voice to a low, seductive whisper, feeling Galen’s reaction. “Do you want to fuck me?” He asked, looking up into Gale’s eyes that glittered darkly. He grabbed Galen’s hand and brought it up to his mouth, sliding his lips all the way down one of Galen’s long fingers, watching Galen’s eyes fixate on his lips. “You want this?”

“Yes.” He was surprised Galen had actually answered, but he took that as a sign of strong desire. He let go of his hand, and instead slid his hands down Galen’s side, to his hips, to his legs as he mirrored Galen’s earlier pose and dropped to his knees. He wondered if Galen knew how appealing he was, an often wondered thought that came to him especially at times like this.

He was lean, but with thick muscles, his skin a dark olive color, his hair neatly trimmed but masculine all over his vody. And his voice, as Krennic’s lips slid around him, moaning almost sweetly, was incredible. Krennic sucked hard, stroking his hand quickly along the pieces he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

Galen was groaning, whispering his name over and over in an almost chant. He knew Galen preferred for them to go slow, for Krennic to take his time. But Galen’s voice was driving him to go faster, to pull thicker moans, to her his names even more. He felt Galen’s hand on the side of his hair, his fingers stroking softly through the strands above his ear. If he hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied, he might have laughed. Galen was sweet, always sweet, even when the situation merited more than a little roughness.

Krennic pulled back, looking up at Galen, whose face was flushed, his breathing heavy and held his eye contact as his slid his lips over the tip. Galen’s eyes were wide, dark with lust, and he let out a choked sort of sound. Krennic stayed at the tips, running his tongue in small circles, keeping his hand moving faster and faster, until Galen gasped out his name and he could taste him heavy on his tongue. He swallowed him down the same, keeping him in his mouth a bit longer than normal, watching Galen’s legs begin to shake slightly with the effort of standing through his orgasm before he pulled back, and stood up.

He took Galen’s hand, and pulled him over to the bed, both of them collapsing on it in a bundle of heavy breathing and semi-sweat sheened skin.

“I should play the piano more often.” Galen finally said, when his breathing had slowed and he turned to Krennic, reaching up a hand to brush his thumb across Krennic’s lips. “If this is where we end up.”

“You should play either way.” Krennic agreed, closing his eyes as he pressed against Galen who wrapped his arm around him. He wondered briefly, before the tiredness he didn’t realize he felt swept over him, whether or not Galen might be in the mood to do something a little more intense later. From the way Galen pulled him even closer, he thought he might and a small smile came to his face before he drifted off to sleep.

 


	3. In the Hotel: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of two for this section, next part up hopefully soon-ish, I really just write these whenever the inspiration hits and I have time! Hope you enjoy! Updates on the big story coming soon! :D Please R and R, makes my day everytime!

He pulled Galen closer, his body aching for him after what seemed like lifetimes of not touching. Galen didn’t react as quickly as he wanted, but Krennic didn’t care, happy to help the hesitant arms wrap around him. The smell of the room, almost clinical in its cleanliness, was overpowered with the natural smell of Galen: fresh mint and something earthy that mingled with the heat radiating off of Galen’s body.

He tugged off his gloves, throwing them to the table behind them, not taking his lips off Galen’s skin. He was met with no resistance as he started to tug at Galen’s clothes, undoing buttons and fastenings to uncover his chest. He knew that normally Galen would not appreciate the clothes being so casually discarded on the floor, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He needed Galen, he needed contact, to feel him. To taste him.

AS his shirt peeled back, he pressed open mouth kisses there, along Galen’s neck and shoulders, down to his collarbone, pushing them back towards where he knew the bedroom had to be. From what he had heard coming up the hall just from people moving around, the furniture was pretty shoddy and the neighbors were certain to get an earful.

“Orson.” Galen said, half gasping, his hands closing over Krennic’s as they pushed his clothes from his body. “Slow down.”

It was painful, almost, to slow from the pace that he had been going, especially since he could feel arousal pooling in his stomach, his pants becoming steadily uncomfortable. “We can slow down later, Galen.” He said, looking into the man’s eyes, dark with lust. “I’ve missed you.” He captured his lips in another kiss, and it seemed that Galen decided to give in to the idea, kissing him back fiercely, hands running over Krennic’s clothes.

When they reached Galen’s room, they broke apart. Krennic slammed the door shut, undoing his own belt while Galen watched him from a few feet away. He grinned, undoing his shirt as slowly as his racing mind would let him, watching Galen’s physical reaction. Galen had always been reactive. Quiet, but more obvious in his thoughts than the man believed himself to be. At least to Krennic.

He tossed the shirt down to the ground, letting the belt fall with a loud thump. He wanted Galen to touch him, to feel the man’s hands run over his body with the same desire he had been accustomed to. But the man seemed to be hesitating, so Krennic undid his trousers, kicking them off as he stepped to Galen again. He pressed himself to Galen fully, knowing the man could feel his arousal hard on his thigh, happy to feel the same pressed against him. He smirked and undid Galen’s pants, pushing them and his underwear down his legs while Galen gulped audibly.

He went to his knees, sliding his lips over Galen while the man moaned loudly for the first time. He felt him harden in his mouth and delighted for a moment in the fact that he was the only one who knew exactly how to do this to Galen, how to give the man exactly what he wanted.

He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks around Galen, who responded with equal enthusiasm, reaching down to grip a hand against Krennic’s shoulder. He took him to the edge, feeling the first tang of salt on his tongue before he pulled back abruptly. “Not this time, love.” He said, standing, ignoring the imprint the rug had left on his knees. “I want you inside me.”

Galen didn’t move, regaining his breath as he recovered from Krennic as best he could. Krennic stepped back, going to his discarded pants to pull out the necessary items for them to continue. Galen was looking at him again, then down as Krennic pressed them into his palm.

“In the bed.” Galen said, watching as Krennic slid his boxer briefs, the last barrier between them, to the ground. He stepped away, laying down on his back, wrapping one hand around himself, watching Galen bite his lip subconsciously. He didn’t have to wait long, Galen climbing up between his legs, pressing kisses to Krennic’s jawbone, replacing Krennic’s hand with his own in slow strokes. Krennic relished in the feel of Galen kissing his way down his body, at the feel of Galen opening his legs with one hand before a slick finger slid against him.

He groaned as Galen opened him, gently as always, but now with the same urgency that Krennic felt. This was new for both of them together, for Galen for certain: most times they spent together had been a slow build up, Krennic knowing he was working to please a man who was not always keen on human touch. But now, as another of Galen’s fingers slid inside of him, he just wanted to feel that urgency, the urgent rocking that came with those moments when they could hardly restrain themselves.

He didn’t have to wait long, Galen’s fingers leaving to be replaced by his cock, sheathed and slick as it slid into him. He moaned audibly, feeling and hearing the bed rock with the start of Galen’s thrusts. The man’s hand moved in the same rhythm timing each thrust against Krennic’s prostate with a careful stroke of his hand. Krennic was coming undone, quickly and happily.

“Galen.” He breathed not able to pull him in for a kiss. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.”

Galen said nothing, groaning as he usually did, panting as he neared his own orgasm for the second time. “I have, too.” He finally admitted before letting out Orson’s name in a long moan, burying himself deep inside of him. Krennic twisted his fingers in Galen’s long hair, tugging lightly on the roots as fevered lips pressed against his chest, his shoulders, any bit of uncovered skin Galen could reach until his vision blurred with a final well-aimed thrust and he could feel himself curling against him.

Seconds later, perhaps even less time, he could feel the deep, sharp thrust mingled with the heavy groan that meant Galen had reached his peak as well. Galen’s forehead pressed into his shoulder, his breath both warm and cooling against the sheen of sweat against his skin.

For the first time in what felt like week, Krennic smiled a genuine smile, wrapping his arms around Galen as they came down together, feeling the start of the repairs being knitted between them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom, more of our faves :) This time a little program-era love. As always, I hope you enjoy. Please R and R, let me know what you think!

“What’s wrong, Galen?” Krennic pressed him back into the bed, he could feel his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. But he seemed distracted, his hands almost unsure even as they undressed Krennic steadily as they always did. He didn’t meet his eyes, but he could see the tips of his ears getting red under his long hair.

He slid his hands up over Galen’s chest, pressing closer to him, back against the bed, until his hands came up to his face, turning him to face him. “You haven’t been shy.” He said, and it was true. Not since they came back from Lexrule. Galen Erso still had the most self-restraint of any person he knew, but that didn’t mean their hadn’t been nights when homework was forgotten and there was something almost possessive in his hands and his mouth and his words that Krennic didn’t see any other time. When the love and genuine affection would fuel pure desire and bouts of physical affection he didn’t think was possible.

Galen blinked down at him, and looked like he wanted to say something but his lips only opened a fraction before closing again. “Tell me.” Krennic said, with a little smirk to cover the concern there. There was always a nagging sensation in the back of his skull, after his trip home, that Galen would decide that someone with this kind of baggage wasn’t worth it. That he wouldn’t be good enough for the gentle genius in front of him now, skin flushed from his lips and almost hot to the touch.

“I thought we could do something different.” He finally murmured, and Krennic raised his eyebrows. While he had no complaints, everything they had done had been very similar to each. Each experience was incredible, memorable, but not the creative, or changing he had enjoyed with other partners. He had thought Galen wasn’t interested in changing much, at least not yet. Maybe he was wrong.

“What did you have in mind?” But Galen’s face turned blood red at the question, and his eyes went down. “It’s alright, Galen.” He leaned forward and whispered, almost against his lips. “You can tell me anything.” And then pressed his lips to his to emphasize his point.

Galen responded with unexpected vigor, threading his fingers through Krennic’s curls once before he slid them down his back, massaging gentle circles into his skin. Krennic moaned into his mouth, breaking their kiss to breath hard against his shoulder as Galen’s hadn slipped under his waistband to wrap around him.

“I want you.” Galen said, as if he had practiced the words.

“I want you, too” Krennic laughed against his shoulder. “Isn’t that the point of this, Galen?”

“No, I only mean…” Krennic paused, trying to ignore the maddening way Galen’s fingers brushed along his underside. “I want you..” He trailed off again, and Krennic could feel the blush working its way down Galen’s neck, his skin red. “I want you inside me.” He let it out in a long breath that tickled KRennic’s skin. Krennic couldn’t help but freeze at the words, an almost electric current pusling over his skin at the thought of it. He loved Galen, he loved the pleasure that Galen brought him to when he moved inside and over him, every thrust, every touch. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory, however. It was an idea that had graced his consciousness every so often, when he would wrap his arms tight around Galen or Galen would suck at him almost shyly, never prepared for the reactions he would pull from Krennic as he moved.

He pulled back, realizing now that his silence might have been taken for indecision or discomfort. Galen avoided his eyes. “We do not have too…I only thought….We can continue as we always do…I’m not complain-“ But his last words stopped as Krennic ran a thumb over his lips.

“Lay down.” He said instead, “on your stomach.” He watched Galen swallow, his dark eyes dilate with only the most subtle boost of arousal at the thought. Krennic slid his hands down his back, running his fingertips down his back, pressing slight indentions into the skin, sliding his hands under Galen’s boxers and over his ass as he pushed them down his legs. He grinned, watching Galen’s face redden again with his usual shyness, but he did as Krennic asked, lying on his stomachon the bed, his heavy erection trapped between his stomach and the sheets.

“You’ll have to tell me, Galen,” Krennic said in a heavy whisper, running a hand down his back as he tried to ease the tension he felt, “If something hurts.”

Galen nodded, shortly, and Krennic could only hope that he would, Galen wasn’t the best with his feelings. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over Galen’s back, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, his shoulder blade, the center of his back. “You need to relax, Galen.” He said softly against heated skin, feeling slight dampness of sweat: either from arousal or nerves, sorry to say he wasn’t sure. He leaned back, massaging gently into his skin. He realized that this hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision. Galen had been, unbeknownst to him earlier, getting ready for this for perhaps far longer than Krennic realized. He breathed in the scent of Galen’s soap, the rich mint smell that Krennic himself had shown him and left in their shared shower.

Finally, when he felt the tension ease from Galen’s skin, he sat back on his knees, reaching for the bottle that sat next to him on the bed. He felt a familiar spike of arousal through him at the sight of the lean, muscular body in front of him, trying to keep from imagining what was coming to try and keep his arousal under control. For Galen’s sake as well as his own. He wanted to make him enjoy this, to make him feel as good as Galen always did him, thrusting into him until Krennic felt like his body and mind and chest would explode out of themselves, leaving his breathless and gasping and desperate for any kind of friction against his skin.

He opened up the cap, easing the tension he saw bubble up in Galen’s skin with a small hum as smeared it over his fingers, making it warmer than it was coming from the bottle. He moved slowly, so slowly it hardly felt like he was moving at all, skirting around the instance of moving inside of Galen in favor of massaging the muscles his fingers pressed against. It wasn’t unfamiliar. He had other partners, how many times had he prepared their bodies and his own for them? How many times for Galen, before the man had insisted on aiding him as best he knew how, fingers unsteady at first, but that now could work with casual reassurance?

When his fingers finally did slide into Galen, opening him slowly, carefully, with a hand pressed to the small of his back to keep him at ease, it was with careful precision, edged with a bite of arousal everytime Galen clenched around his fingers. Finally, after what seemed to be the most painstaking minutes of his life, he slid his hand back, moving off the bed entirely to rid himself of his boxers, aching to the point that That it was almost painful to free himself from his boxers.

“Galen,” His own voice surprised him with its roughness. “Turn over, I want to see your face.” Scarcely had Galen listened to his command before Krennic was back on the bed, between his legs, arms bracing him above Galen to take his lips in an almost biting kiss, one that had Galen clenching at the back of his head to pull him closer. When Galen finally separated them, already full lips almost glowing damp from the kiss, he was breathing heavy, pupils blown. “Orson…” He breathed, and reached a hand down to Krennic’s cock pressed hard against his stomach.

Krennic grinned, his own breathing heavy. He moved back onto his knees, this time his view of Galen’s front, red and flushed and lean and hard. He grabbed the tube again, and the condom next to it, pulling it on quickly and coating himself heavily, knowing his fingers  against his aching skin were nothing compared to what was coming. He dropped two thick drops onto Galen as well, squeezing him until Galen couldn’t suppress the almost silent moan that tore from his throat.

“Are you sure, Galen?” Krennic said, wanting to be positive. “We can stop this…we can change…”

“I am sure.” Galen said, his own voice a cross between a shy whisper and a raspy desperation. Krennic released him, moving his hand back to his own cock, pulling Galen’s legs back until they wrapped heavily around his waist, and he he could press against him, feeling resistance, but not enough tat Galen gave any sign of pain. He pressed his hips forward slowly, feeling Galen clench around him, trying to stay relaxed like Krennic had said, until he slid past the first heavy ring of muscle and slid in far more easily, unable to repress the groan that felt nearly yanked from his throat.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold his composure as he felt Galen stay perfectly still under him for a long second. He blinked them open, looking up to the dark green and hazel eyes meeting his gaze. He opened his lips to speak, words lost as Galen’s legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper in until he was flush against Galen’s body. “Galen…” He breathed instead, trying to keep from panting. “Are you alright?”

“Make love to me, Orson.” Galen said, so quietly that Krennic wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t dreamed it. It wasn’t an uncommon sentiment for the man beneath him: Galen saw their actions as far more than the sexual encounters they could have been reduced to. He saw them always as the culmination of their relationship, all of their trials spent together at the damned school and on Lexrule and in their internships and their act of solidarity against the galaxy. It was incredible, and it made Krennic feel powerful. Like they were their own flames, burning as one, and bright than anything else that would try and outshine them.

He leaned forward, pulling Galen into another kiss as he started to move his hips slowly, back until he couldn’t bear the loss of heat and had to press forward again. He kissed his way down Galen’s jaw, ignoring the slight burn of his facial hair, so that he could angle his thrusts. “Touch yourself.” He said against his clavicle, as he moved his hips to brush against Galen’s prostate.

He heard him gasp above his head, his arm tightening on Krennic’s back as he repeated the motion, fingers digging into the skin. Krennic moved faster, spurred on by the noises and his own body that was begging for release. He moved faster, hips snapping in a smooth rhythm as Galen’s body let allowed him in more and more easily.

“Orson,” Galen moaned beneath him, almost writhing, his hand sliding desperately over himself. Krennic said nothing, panting heavily against his skin, thrusting harder, aiming another thrust hard into Galen’s prostate that finally pulled his orgasm from him, spilling over his hand and stomach and onto Orson’s as he kept going.

“I love you.” Galen breathed, coming down from his high. But Krennic scarcely heard him, unable to respond except with an almost guttural snarl as his hips snapped forward into Galen a final time as his climax fianlyl brought the relief his body was seeking.

He stayed like that for a long moment, feeling the sweat drips heavy down the curls plastered to his forehead onto Galen’s already stained skin. “I love you, too.” He looked up at Galen, finally able to control his thinking and breathing long enough to say something sensicl in his own mind. Galen was smiling at him, blinking sleepily as he separated them, reaching to clean himself and hand Galen a towel.

“Are you alright?” He said, not knowing what was running through Galen’s never-quiet mind. He was suddenly nervous, watching Galen slide from his bed, sparing the ruined sheets an unobtrusive glance before he gathered them in his arms to go in the wash with the towel.

“I need a shower.” He said finally, and Krennic swallowed. Maybe Galen hadn’t enjoyed himself particularly, maybe he wouldn’t want this again between them. Krennic wanted to shout with frustration, he didn’t know what he could have done differently. Then Galen turned to him, his eyes almost glittering in the dark. “Would you like to join me?”

And Krennic smiled, feeling Galen interlace their fingers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewatched Rogue One like four times over the weekend. I blame it for the increase in Galennic fanfiction I have been writing. I wish others would follow suit, I'm starved for content. If you got it, hmu, I have a mighty need. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy! Please R and R, let me know what you think!

“You have been drinking, Orson.” His partner hummed a small laugh against his shoulder, the slight smell of wine on his lips.

“I had two glasses, Galen.” He said, “With dinner. It’s not as though I’m out of my right mind.”

“You are acting like it.” Galen almost felt like cursing as Orson’s hands slid under his shirt, undoing the bottom buttons in favor of undoing his pants. His body was betraying him  Orson snorted with laughter, kissing his jaw as he got to Galen’s belt.

“We have a half hour until we get out of this cab, I intend to take advantage.” Galen looked at him for a moment, knowing Orson wouldn’t actually do anything without his permission. Galen was far from an exhibitionist, in fact, he usually found the idea somewhat terrifying in thought and practice. But now, flying through the upper lanes of Coruscant in the heavy darkness of a speeder cab, a guard blocking them from their driver, and Orson’s lips the palest shade redder from the wine, he couldn’t say no to him. So instead, he twisted a hand back, pulling the man into a heavy kiss.

He could feel Orson’s smile before he felt his tongue, though the latter soon followed. He wondered it it was his own glass of wine that made him feel lightheaded, or if it was his growing arousal under Orson’s insistent touch. Orson pulled back from him for a moment, breathing hot and heavy in his ear. “Lift your hips a bit.”

He did, and Orson tugged on his trousers and his boxers until he could wrap his hand around Galen’s growing erection. He bit back a groan at the feeling, not wanting to alert the driver. “Orson…” He said, meaning it as a warning, but Orson took it as a challenge instead.

“Shhhhh, Galen. Wouldn’t want anyone to know.” Orson passed his free thumb over Galen’s lips, and Galen had to close his eyes to stop himself from pulling the tip of it into his mouth. He quickly realized he shouldn’t have kept his eyes closed as he felt Orson’s lips slide around him.

He did gasp that time, grasping for the seatbelt that neither of them had bothered using since their driver was going the pace of a dying snail. His heart hammered with brief panic, nearly enough to overwhelm the heat of Orson’s mouth and the flick of his tongue, but the driver never turned, and Galen was free to look down at the mess of recently clipped curls in his lap, sucking him deep into his throat.

It had been a little over a week since they had been intimate: with the fall of the Jedi and all of the concerns with Lyra coming to light so recently, their intimacy had waned slightly. But now, as Orson intentionally hummed a bit, and Galen had to curl one of his hands in the fabric of Orson’s nice jacket to avoid doing it to his hair, those things seemed to vanish into overwhelming pleasure. Perhaps this was Orson’s way of trying to distract him, to tether them close together. Or maybe it was just Orson trying to make him feel well after what had proven to be an incredibly difficult week. Either way, it was proving incredibly effective.

He could feel himself already teetering on orgasm, Orson’s mouth having never left him since he started, his tongue pressing against all the right places. “Orson…” He groaned, trying and failing to keep his voice quiet, but all that did was egg him on further, Orson’s throat pulling him in deeper than he ever had before, and held him there as he finished with a heavy groan.

Galen let his chest heave, breathing hard, head thrown back against the seat as Orson released him and haphazardly put him back in his pants. Breathing hard himself, he leaned back on the seat next to Galen, lips slightly parted, wine still staining his bottom lip.

“You are insane.” Galen whispered, still not quite believing that their driver hadn’t turned around as they dipped into the final lane before their apartment complex. Orson grinned, his teeth catching the glint off the nearby buildings.

“I am merely enjoying an evening out with you, Galen.”

“Do you intend to enjoy it more later?” Galen asked, scanning his credit tab as they climbed out of the backseat, Galen realizing how out of place his clothes were after the woman on the platform gave them both a strange, very-knowing look. He blushed deeply, his ears warm, as Orson smiled over at the woman before reaching for his hand as they walked inside.

“Only if you are fully on board, Dr. Erso.”

“Orson, please…” There were others in the lobby of the building, but Orson did not seem concerned in the least. Galen felt as though all the eyes were on him. “I won’t be if you continue this behavior.”

“Galen,” He pretended to gasp, sticking out his lower lip in a perfect pout as they boarded the lift. “I’m insulted you think I do this out of anything but love.”

Galen almost rolled his eyes, but Orson’s hand was warm and his smile was real and Galen hated to admit how nice it was to be like this, in the aftermath of strangely public intimacy, after the galaxy seemed to be going to Hell. After he realized that, and how much Orson’s lips did taste like wine, and how easily his clothes peeled off on the way to their room, and how much better it was to do this where they could be as loud as they wanted, he found himself feeling like it was very much out of love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayeeeee, I'm back. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! As always, please R and R! Let me know what you think :)

Orson hung over him, draped almost like a breathing carpet, except he suspicioned a carpet would be more smothering and he could do nothing but breathe at the moment. He was aching for more than Orson’s front, sliding against him with rough friction, pressing him down into the mattress as he sucked hard kisses along Galen’s jaw.

“I’ve missed you.” Days, Orson had said that now. He was nearly insatiable, but now breathing in the salty taste of sweat off the ends of Orson’s hair, his erection aching, trapped against his lover’s in their closeness, he was just as incorrigible. He wanted him. Hard, fast, and whole. Three years away, in a cave, and he had almost forgotten what it felt like to want this badly. Only in dreams had his mind wondered back to these moments, the rest of it emblazoned in the crystals that had glowed bright around him.

He tangled a hand in Orson’s curls, tugging him to his lips, ending the assault of his neck that he certain would bruise. Not that he cared, he had nowhere to go for a few days, and until then, he could wear the bruise as a mark of seduction for Orson, backing him against the doorframes, the tables, the couch, the chairs until they finally untangled to move to the shower to scrub as quickly as they could while pressed together so that they might go get food somewhere in the city, not have taken the time to go to the grocery store and subsisting on whatever Orson had left and the wine and whiskey that soaked heavy into the cabinet.

“Will you turn over?” Galen said finally, pressing his forehead to Orson’s, not able to wait anymore. Orson’s smirk was glinting, his white teeth perfectly reflective of the dim light of their lamp that must be tired of being lit for so many hours a day now. IT was a different lamp than we he had left, but he was glad Orson had occupied himself so easily while he was away.

Orson clamored off of him, the loss of friction almost painful as he did, but Galen moved quickly, grabbing a condom from the box they hadn’t bothered putting away in the drawer before climbing into bed behind him. Galen wouldn’t consider himself a man who needed sex. Never, not even as a teenager, when he could feel his hormones peaking and his sexual interests in others growing, had the urge ever gotten to the point he felt beyond its control.

But now, as he spread lubricant over himself, and slid into Orson almost easily, he wasn’t sure that was still the case. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, how something like this could quiet his mind into only two very singular, nearly intertwined goals of both giving pleasure and taking it for himself with the man currently underneath him, one of his hips held in Galen’s hand as he thrust into his body.

He leaned forward, pulling Orson back with an arm around his chest, pressing a his lips to the back of his shoulder, meaning to kiss him, but not being able to do anything but breathe heavy against the skin there. He slid his other hand down his torso, tracing the lithe build of his lover before wrapping his hand around him fully, stroking him hard in time with his own thrusts, their bodies rocking together in the same rhythm they had met with since his return, only interrupted with long bouts of conversation and bouts of entangled sleep and showers.

“Galen,” Orson was groaning into his ear, out of breath, and pressing back against him as his hips snapped forward as he got closer and closer to his orgasm that he felt was almost being ripped from his body without his consent. He closed his thumb over the tip of Orson’s erection, rubbing slow, maddening circles as he thrust harder into him, trying to angle against his prostate as he moved in the haze that was closing over his mind.

He moved the arm back that was holding Orson up, and the man practically collapsed back on the bed, pressing back against him, moving between pressing back into his thrusts and thrusting his own hips into Galen’s hand. “Fuck, Galen,” He hissed under his breath, and Galen grinned, using his now free hand to still Orson’s hips as he rocked into him.

A few well-timed thrusts and twist of his hand and Orson was spilling over his fingers and onto the sheets that would need changed again, and the tightening of Orson’s body around him, had him thrusting madly to completion, teetering on the edge for only a second longer until he heard Orson’s shuddering breath as he rode down his orgasm.

Galen came with a gasp, hips moving to support himself on either side of Orson’s body as his legs threatened to give out. He stayed up for a moment longer, breathing heavily, the world having exploded in white heat before he dropped to his side, pulling Orson flush against him, still inside him for a moment as his orgasm finally subsided. As he pulled them apart, tossing the condom in the wastebasket with a flourish and handing Orson the small towel off the nightstand, he thought he might finally be coherent for a moment.

He was tired, so tired that now the adrenaline had stopped pumping through his veins, his muscles nearly ached and he was reminded that while still young, he was nearing thirty and what they had done was the typical practice of men far younger. But it didn’t matter, as he pressed his chest to Orson’s back who reached back and pulled Galen’s arm to wrap around him, intertwining his fingers.

“Would you like me to change the bed?” Galen asked, his teeth close enough to Orson’s ear that he could end his words with a kiss.

“It was just the duvet, I put it over there.” Orson answered sleepily, his voice thick and heavy with tiredness. Galen glanced over to see the duvet cover in a ball in the corner. Fine until morning, for certain. “Goodnight, love.”

Galen wished for a moment that he could see Orson’s face, that they had made love facing each other as they usually did rather than as they had, but he smiled briefly at the knowledge that he would most likely wake with Orson using his chest as a pillow, having wrapped himself in all the loose blankets he could collect in his sleep, wrapping the pair of them in a cocoon.

He closed his eyes, pressing a last kiss to the mess of brown curls in front of him before letting waves of sleep wash over him.


End file.
